The Dingo Dilemma

by Claire McNab

  "Sure, but there's an Australian in the cast-Dustin Jaeger. He plays Timmy, the adopted son of the Hardestie family. Aussies turn up all the time in the stories. Don't you watch it?"

  I confessed I didn't. Melodie showed amazement. "But it's a hit, Kylie. Like everyone wants a dingo for a pet, now they've seen Darleen in action."

  Whether it was fair or not, where I came from wild dingoes were regarded as sly and treacherous. "I wouldn't leave a kid alone with a dingo," I said. "You'd come back and the kid'd be gone, and the dingo'd be smacking his lips. Look what happened to the baby in A Cry in the Dark!'

  "That was a rogue dingo," Melodie declared. "Darleen's quite different."

  Lonnie came sauntering into the kitchen, attracted by the magnetic qualities of the remaining doughnuts. "Harriet says to hurry up, Melodie. She's got an appointment with her doctor. The baby's due any day now." Anxiety creased his brow. "I do hope Harriet doesn't go into labor while she's here. I'm not good with anything medical."

  "No worries," I said. "You can keep yourself busy boiling lots of water while Melodie and I deliver the baby."

  "I know you're supposed to have boiling water for babies being born, but what's it for?" he asked.

  "It's just to keep people like you occupied, so you don't have hysterics."

  Indignant, Lonnie said, "I do not have hysterics. The sight of blood makes me faint, that's all."

  From Melodie's expression it was clear that for her, childbirth was not a gripping subject. She broke in with, "Lonnie, have you heard? Kylie's cousin is the dingo wrangler on Darken Come Home. Isn't that great? It's like, a personal link to the show to know the dingo wrangler."

  "Oh, yeah?" said Lonnie, not impressed. "I know a star wrangler."

  "Oh, Lonnie, you do not!"

  Clearly miffed, he snapped, "Why's that so hard to accept?"

  "What's a star wrangler?" I asked.

  "They guarantee to deliver the right celebrity guests to events and parties," said Melodie. "Let's say you have this big function, and you want Hilary or Paris or Scarlett or Lindsay, or a power couple like Tom and Katie, then a star wrangler corrals them for you. Of course, you need celebrity bait, too."

  "Appearance money," said Lonnie, in the manner of one in the know. "Gifts, publicity, donations to the star's favorite charity. All that sort of stuff."

  "What's the name of this star wrangler you say you know?" asked Melodie, deeply suspicious. "You've made it all up, haven't you?"

  "I've made nothing up. Pauline works for Glowing Bodies, the event coordinators."

  "Glowing Bodies is the company name?" I said.

  "Celebrities sort of glow, more than ordinary people," Lonnie pointed out. "So, Glowing Bodies."

  "I've been told I have a radiance, a sort of glow about me," Melodie declared.

  Lonnie unsuccessfully repressed a chortle. She glared at him. "Something's funny?"

  "Not more than usual," he smirked.

  "This Pauline," said Melodie, looking narrowly at him, "what's her last name?"

  "Feeney. Pauline Feeney."

  "She's your girlfriend?"

  A blush spread over Lonnie's chubby face. "You could say that."

  "I don't believe it!" She turned me. "Do you believe it, Kylie?"

  "Well, if Lonnie says so…"

  Fran chose this moment to appear at the kitchen door. Obviously she was in a dark mood, which was par for the course. Fran wasn't tall but she made quite an impression, combining a spectacular bust line, porcelain skin, and dark auburn hair with the bleakest of expressions. She rather reminded me of an exquisite but malevolent doll.

  "Harriet's bladder won't take any more," she announced. "She says you asked her to mind the telephone for five minutes. That was at least twenty minutes ago, Melodie. And Harriet wants to know where her doughnut is."

  "Fran, what do you think of this? Lonnie says he's got a girlfriend. She star wrangles for Glowing Bodies."

  Fran shot a look at Lonnie, who was still faintly pink. "A girlfriend? I don't believe it."

  Seriously displeased, Lonnie snapped, "Why not?"

  "Lonnie, face it, you've never mentioned a girlfriend before," Fran pointed out.

  "Just because I don't parade my personal life-"

  "How did you meet Pauline?" Melodie demanded. "Spell it out. At some celebrity do? I don't think so!"

  Lonnie had gone quite red again. "If you must know, through a dating service. A very reputable company, Soulmate Discovery."

  "A dating service? A star wrangler working for an outfit like Glowing Bodies would need a dating service?"

  Stung by Melodie's incredulity, Lonnie said furiously, "Pauline says once you've got past the fame, celebrities are totally shallow and self-centered. You can't have a meaningful relationship with them, because they're all in love with themselves."

  "That's true," said Fran. "Quip says the same thing."

  Quip was Fran's husband, and wrote screenplays that so far had never been produced. He was a gorgeous bloke, and struck me as gay as billy-oh, but he and Fran seemed to have a happy marriage-or as happy as you could have with Fran's outlook on life.

  Encouraged by Fran's support, Lonnie said with a superior smile, "Pauline says if I want to meet celebrities, she can get me an invitation to any event I like. Just name it, and I'm in."

  A calculating expression flashed across Melodie's face. "Now I think about it, Lonnie, I can see why Pauline would be drawn to you when all she does is handle high-maintenance celebrities. I mean, you're just an ordinary person."

  Looking quite chuffed, Lonnie said, "She does say it's great to be with someone normal."

  "Or what laughingly passes for normal," Fran observed.

  The phone on the kitchen wall rang. As I was nearest, I answered it. Harriet, who normally was the most even-tempered person on earth, snarled, "Put Melodie on."

  "It's Harriet for you," I said, holding out the receiver.

  Melodie grabbed the Delicioso box and shot out the door. "Tell her I'm on my way with doughnuts," she called back over her shoulder.

  I passed on the message. "About time!" Harriet snapped.

  "Lonnie," said Fran in a surprisingly sweet tone, "about tomorrow…"

  He was immediately wary. "What about tomorrow?"

  "We need to move the office stuff out of the storage room to make room for the disaster supplies."

  "You need to move the stuff, not me. I'm way too busy."

  Fran's near-pleasant expression vanished. "Is that so?" she said icily. "Then I'll be way too busy to provide you with essential supplies when the terrorists strike with a dirty bomb or germ warfare. Homeland Security says it's only a matter of time."

  Lonnie looked stubborn.

  "Or when the Big One hits, which could be any day now."

  I shivered. I'd only been in LA a few months, but had already experienced a minor earthquake and lots of aftershocks. The thought of the Big One was just too horrible to contemplate.

  "Countless frantic survivors," said Fran, warming to the theme, "crying out desperately for water, food, and medical equipment." She paused meaningfully. "The very supplies which I just happen to have stockpiled."

  "It'll never happen," said Lonnie, without much confidence.

  "Moaning in pain…"

  Lonnie threw up his hands. "Oh, all right. I'll help."

  Fran turned to me. "Kylie?"

  "Right-oh. I'll be there."

  The phone rang. It was Melodie. "Your Aunt Millie's calling. Sounds real upset. I thought you might like to take it in your office."

  Hell's bells! First Mum, now Aunt Millie. A dark pessimism, worthy of Fran, swept through me. Could the day possibly get worse? I had the awful conviction that it could.

  Three

  "My Brucie's a headstrong boy," Aunt Millie announced as soon as I picked up the phone. I could visualize her short, stocky body and grim expression-she and Fran shared the same bleak outlook on life-as she added darkly, "I know only too well what
the fleshpots of Hollywood have to offer a young, impressionable fellow like Brucie. I'm relying on you to keep him on the straight and narrow, Kylie."

  "Fair go, Aunt Millie! I'm on a case, so I won't have time to keep an eye on Brucie."

  Aunt Millie snorted scornfully. "A case? Looking up Dingo O'Rourke is a case?"

  Obviously Mum had told her all about Harry and Gert's worries about their son. "I'm looking up Dingo as a favor," I said, "but that doesn't mean it won't take a bit of time to check things out."

  That elicited another snort from my aunt-she had a nuanced scale of such sounds, running from mild disapproval to total outrage. I pegged this one as mid-range derision. "I can tell you exactly what's wrong with Dingo. He's an idiot, silly as a two-bob watch. But then, what would you expect, with a mother like Gert O'Rourke?"

  There was a long-standing feud between Aunt Millie and Dingo's mum. The reasons were lost in time, but I dimly recalled it was something to do with a recipe for lemon meringue dessert and a blue-ribbon prize for cooking at the Wollegudgerie Harvest Fair.

  "When does Brucie arrive in LA?" I asked in a conciliatory tone.

  "Any day now. He went off to Sydney with some of his mates for a farewell bash before he hopped on the plane."

  Sydney was quite a way from my hometown, and Cousin Brucie hadn't ever traveled far from Wollegudgerie before. "His mates didn't throw him a party at the 'Gudge?"

  "They knew I'd have their guts for garters if they even tried. Brucie knows my feelings-I'm totally opposed to this wild plan of his to join your PI firm."

  Crushing down a yelp of deep dismay at the very thought of Brucie working for Kendall & Creeling, I said as calmly as possible, "I'm totally opposed to it, too."

  "I hope you stick to that, my girl. Brucie can be a bit of a charmer, you know."

  I had to repress a laugh. My cousin a charmer? He was a noxious know-it-all with all the charisma of a warthog. "I'll resist his charm as best I can," I said.

  There was a knock at the door. With pleasure I saw that it was Ariana Creeling, my business partner. I gestured her into the room as I said to Aunt Millie, "Sorry, but I have to go."

  "Not until I have a firm undertaking from you that you'll make sure Brucie stays out of trouble."

  "Aunt Millie-"

  "I'm relying on you, Kylie. Brucie is your cousin."

  "Cousin or not, you know Brucie and I don't get on. There's no way he'd listen to me."

  This got a reluctant grunt from my aunt. "It's true you've been at each other's throats since you were kids. Very well, then, I'm asking you to do your best. Fair enough?"

  "I'll do my best, for what it's worth."

  "Hmmm…"

  The sound of Aunt Millie musing almost always presaged something unfortunate. "What are you thinking?" I asked with trepidation.

  "I'm thinking that notwithstanding my opposition to Brucie joining your PI business, you'd find it easy to keep an eye on him if you gave him some sort of temporary position."

  "No way am I giving Brucie a job at Kendall & Creeling!"

  Aunt Millie tut-tutted. "There's no call for you to use that tone with me."

  "I'm sorry," I said, not really meaning it.

  Before ringing off, Aunt Millie pointed out she would be expecting me to provide regular reports on Brucie's activities in Los Angeles. She brushed aside my protests with, "Brucie's family, Kylie, and don't you forget it."

  After my second daunting call from Australia in the space of a couple of hours, it was a delight to turn to Ariana. She was her always-elegant self in black silk shirt, black pants and high-heeled boots. Her pale blond hair was pulled back to emphasize the cool beauty of her face. I felt the usual pleasant jolt from her electric blue eyes.

  "Help!" I said. "Save me from my relatives."

  Ariana smiled. "I gather Kendall & Creeling is not about to employ your cousin, Brucie?"

  "Crikey, no!"

  I gave her a rundown of my earlier conversation with Mum about Dingo O'Rourke and then the gist of my chat with my aunt. Ariana had met Aunt Millie, and inquired if her son took after her.

  "You mean is he mega-pessimistic, like his mum? Not at all. Brucie's the life of the party."

  Actually he was a pain in the neck, but maybe he'd be on his best behavior in a foreign country. One could hope.

  Pushing aside the disheartening thought of Brucie on the loose in LA, I said, "You got my note about Norris Blainey? Lonnie says he's the developer from hell."

  "He is that. Blainey's been accused of numerous illegalities and shady dealings over the years, but nothing's ever stuck."

  "When I met him trespassing in our parking area, he told me he was planning to demolish every building in the block and put up offices and condominiums. I didn't take him all that him seriously."

  Ariana leaned back in the chair, her expression grave. "This could be a real problem, Kylie. If Blainey's got plans for this area, he'll use any method, legit or not, to bulldoze the opposition."

  "He's not getting his greedy little mitts on our building."

  She nodded slowly. "I'm with you all the way, but I think we're in for a nasty fight. We need an attorney specializing in the field. If you agree, I'll contact Kenneth Smithson of Smithson & Wiley. He's had a lot of experience in the area, and has run into Blainey before."

  "Right-oh." I smiled at her, thinking how she glowed against the somber tones of the room. This had been my father's office, and I hadn't liked to change the decor of charcoal carpet and dark gray metal furniture.

  Glowed made me think of Lonnie. "Ariana, did you know Lonnie is dating a star wrangler who works for some mob called Glowing Bodies?"

  "The event coordinators? Yes, I'm familiar with the company. We've done some security work for them in the past. Who's Lonnie dating?"

  "Someone called Pauline Feeney. They met online."

  Ariana chuckled. "Pauline's a total original and quite a handful for any man, let alone Lonnie. A few years back, she was involved in a stalking case."

  "Who was stalking her?"

  "No one. She was the stalker."

  "Blimey," I said, "someone ought to warn him."

  "I doubt he needs warning. At the very least he will have Googled Pauline Feeney's name. That'd bring up quite a few hits."

  "He seems quite smitten," I said.

  We were silent for a moment, considering the unprecedented concept of Lonnie in love. The thought dampened my mood considerably, since I was irresistibly reminded that I loved Ariana and she didn't love me.

  Oh, she was fond of me, and we'd had a couple of quite spectacular sessions in bed, but that wasn't nearly enough. It was probably hopeless, but I wanted her to love me as I loved her, which was pretty well totally.

  "I want the entire enchilada," I said.

  Ariana raised an eyebrow. "Pardon me?"

  Crikey! I'd done it again-absent-mindedly spoken my thoughts aloud. It was a habit I just had to break before it really got me into trouble. Like now.

  "Dinner tonight," I said hastily, hoping my face wasn't red. "I'm thinking Mexican. Would you like to join me?"

  "Sorry, Kylie, I'm not free tonight."

  Not free? That made me even gloomier. Ariana was not free tonight, not free to love me…and maybe never would be.

  "No worries," I said. "Julia Roberts can keep me company." It occurred to me that I hadn't seen her graceful feline self since I'd served her breakfast this morning. "You don't happen to know where Jules is, do you?"

  "When I came in, Melodie mentioned she'd just seen a mouse in Lonnie's office, so she put Julia Roberts in there to catch it."

  Lonnie was violently allergic to cats, so he avoided Julia Roberts whenever possible and had made it clear she was forever banned from his room. This, of course, only made Jules more determined to enter the forbidden area.

  "It's a phantom mouse," I said with conviction, "created to punish Lonnie, because he laughed at Melodie when she said she had a glow about her."

 
"A glow?" said Ariana with a grin. "I won't ask." She got to her feet. "Let me know how you go with Dingo O'Rourke."

  As she reached the door, I said, "Would you like to catch a movie this weekend?"

  "Kylie…"

  "Just a movie. I'm not asking for anything else."

  She looked at me for a long moment, then said, "I'll get back to you."

  Slightly heartened, since this wasn't an unequivocal no, I picked up the phone and tried Dingo's cell phone. He didn't pick up, so I left a brief message on his voicemail asking him to call me.

  Then I went to collect Julia Roberts from Lonnie's office. Fortunately he wasn't there, as he would have been outraged at the sight of Jules comfortably ensconced in his chair, delicately balanced with one foot in the air as she washed her tawny nethers.

  "Found the mouse?" I inquired.

  She paused for a moment to cast me a look equivalent to an elegant shrug, then resumed her ablutions.

  "You're right, Jules," I said, looking around the chaotic collection of items filling the room, "it's hopeless. There's enough cover for an entire battalion of mice. You're wasting your time here."

  She protested as I scooped her into my arms and deposited her outside in the hallway. With her ears sideways in a peeved frown she watched me shut Lonnie's door, then she stalked off with an indignant snap of her tail.

  Mentioning enchiladas to Ariana earlier had made me feel quite hungry, so I went up to the front desk to tell Melodie I'd spring for lunch for everyone if she'd order a delivery from the local Mexican restaurant. I found her completely absorbed, tapping away on a laptop.

  Melodie hadn't noticed my approach. As she typed, her expression kept changing. One moment it was dreamy, the next vivacious. This was so intriguing I nipped up behind to get a gander at the screen.

  "You love walking hand-in-hand along a beach at dusk?" I said. "And toasting marshmallows by a campfire? And dancing the night away?"

  "Kylie! You gave me a fright!"

  "Sorry."

  Rather pink, Melodie said, "Just for a laugh, I was filling in a personality profile for a dating service. Like, everybody does it."